


Break It Down

by Liquid_Molasses



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-11
Updated: 2008-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-10 08:32:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liquid_Molasses/pseuds/Liquid_Molasses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thunder of the Outsiders sometimes just needs a little Grace to help her put things in perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break It Down

My father loves me. I know it through and through and there's nothing that can change that. But I have a problem. It's not a secret. Everyone knows about me. I'm Black Lightning's daughter first, and I'm that black girl screwing Grace Choi second. That's how they see me. My father knows about it and loves me anyway, but... I can see it in his eyes. He doesn't approve.

It's understandable, of course. He's a Baptist by faith, born and raised. So was I, for that matter. And here I am in love with a woman descended from the Greek Gods. It's more than understandable why my dad feels the way he feels. I don't hate him for it. I can't. But it's hard to know my dad is this great hero—on the Justice League and everything—and still doesn't approve of our relationship.

But I'd made peace with that, at least.

Then Batman came along on his high horse and kicked me off the Outsiders. I helped Nightwing and Arsenal from the beginning. We rebuilt this long-forgotten team from the ground up and then Batman just kicks me off, throws me aside and thinks its okay because I'm too immature. 'Not ready.' Damn him.

I spread my hands out on the back of the couch and stand up. Cassandra, that crazy, scarred Batgirl, is practicing some martial arts kata out on the balcony. We actually convinced her to put on some clothes this time, so she probably won't attract too much attention. Not this late at night, anyway.

My annoyance drives me to the 'fridge to look for a beer or something. But there's nothin' there. I pull out a Soder and pop it open Bleh. Diet Soder. I drink it anyway; no use in wasting it. When I get to my room, Grace is absent from the bed I thought she was sleeping in and the window is open. Must have gone out for something I think. I figure I'll be up for a while and move to close the window when a big duffel bag flops inside and I hear glass bottles knock against each other. Then Grace appears in the window, and I smile.

“Where you been?” I ask. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Went out for some stuff,” she says. She unzips the bag and I see labels for Jack Daniels and Soder bottled in Mexico. Best kind there is, Grace has always said. “I got sick of having only healthy options here.”

I laugh because I know exactly what she means and help myself to a bottle of the whiskey, pour just a little into my can. I chew my lip with annoyance when I miss the hole and spill it all over my frickin hand.

Grace mixes her self a makeshift cocktail and we sit on the bed as I complain about my frustrations. I can see she's tired of hearing me whine, but the only other person awake isn't much of a talker—if you know what I mean. I finish my drink and set the can down on the dresser.

“You know your dad's one of the good guys,” Grace tells me.

“I never said he wasn't. I just wish he'd treat me more like he treats Jennifer.” My sister always seemed to get doted on 'cause she was younger. And, you know. Not in love with Grace Choi.

“What?” Grace chortled. “You want him to take away your cell phone when you miss curfew.”

I can't help but laugh too. She has a point.

“Listen,” Grace says with a smile.“What you need to do is shut up and stop worrying about what Batman thinks. Your as much a part of this team as anyone as far as I'm concerned, and if Batman so much as lays a finger on you...” Grace smirks and flexes her right arm, causing the symbolic face tattooed on the shoulder to make a grimace. “He'll have a batarang up his ass faster than Robin can say 'Holy Seven Foot Tall Amazon, Batman!'”

Grace leaned over towards me until the tip of her nose touched the tip of mine, so that I felt her breath hit my neck and smelt the alcohol she'd been drinking. “Okay?” she asked. I looked into her eyes and remembered why we got together in the first place—during that year without Batman or Superman or Wonder Woman.

Considering all the bad things that happened after the so-called Trinity showed back up, I think we might be better off if that year had never ended.

Grace's mouth meets mine, my eyes close, and we kiss, our tongues meeting inside and tasting each other until I lean back to talk.

“Sex?” I ask with a smile.

“It will make you feel better.”

She does not have to talk me into it. I scoot up on the bed and sit in the center, and Grace leans over on me, wrapping me with her huge arms, protecting me. Stupid as it sounds, I like her arms protecting me. I raised mine and let her pull my shirt and bra off of me in one motion. The air in the Outsider's apartment flows coolly over my back. It feels so good. Grace eyes my naked breasts and her face lights up, her hands moving up to intercept them like a Patriot Missile.

“Hey, take those wraps off your arms,” I scold her, only half jokingly. “I've got no idea where they've been.”

She raises her hands and together we begin unraveling the tight fabric until both of her huge forearms are totally bare. I pull her left hand close to my face and kiss her fingers one by one, licking the tips moist. Then I pull her hand to my chest and press it against my right breast. It's cool from the night air, or her drink, I have no idea which. Even so, it comforts me. She begins massaging, first with one hand and then with both, feeling and prodding with her fingers, possessing them. They're hers now. I moan slightly because I love it when she does this.

I put my hands on her waist and slide them up, my fingers slipping below the fabric of her shirt and pulling it up, she nods, letting me continue. I find her bra underneath and collect that too, and pull up. I practically have to stand to get her shirt off, she's so much taller than me. But when I slide it off and drop it on the floor, it's more than worth it. Seeing grace topless always takes my breath away. I pull her close to me and hold here there for a minute, then slide my hands down. Her boobs belong to me like mine to her, and I knead their warm flesh with my hands until Grace pushes me back and I lay flat on the bed.

“Bird legs,” she says with a smile, her hands finding the zipper of my jeans.

“Great legs,” I protest as she unzips them, pulss the denim off. She tosses them aside and leans forward, running her fingers across my panties. They moisten with anticipation.

“Slow down, girl,” Grace warns me. “Not there yet.” She turns me over—I don't struggle, and it's not like struggling would do any good. Her hands find my butt and and rub, and squeeze. I feel her face and lips on my right cheek and moan.

“Keep that up,” I tell her.

She does. I hear two kisses and feel them on both cheeks. She kisses down my leg until she finds my heel and peels the sock off. Her teeth bite into my heel gently, and I feel myself get wetter. I'm not sure if I want her to keep it up or cut out all the anticipation crap and get to the main attraction.

My other sock comes off, and Grace tickles my feet until I adjust my position and she pulls one foot up to her face as she stands on her knees. She kisses the foot, sucks on a toe, then tells me to sit up.

“Give me your hands.”

I do it, and she takes one of my hands in hers, pulling it to her mouth and kissing it. Her tongue grazes my palm, warm and wet, and my fingers disappear between her lips, one at a time. When my index finger goes in, I rub it against her tongue. “Mmm. Anissa, dear,” she says in a fake patronizing accent, “you're supposed to drink from the bottle, not your hand.”

I remember spilling the booze on my hand earlier and smile. “A gift for you.”

“I can think of some other uses!” Grace laughs, grabbing a bottle from the side of the bed and popping the top off. My eyes light up and she tells me to lean back. The whiskey runs out on my chest, the smell wafting up as it runs over my boobs and down my belly. Grace sets the bottle down and pins me to the bed with both arms, then kisses my neck, my chest, licking the booze from my breasts. She kisses and sucks on my nipples and continues down to my belly. I see her reach for the bottle with one hand and my underwear with another, and move to stop her.

“Not yet.” I grab her wrist and push it away. Then I take the bottle from her and and motion for her to lean back. She does so gladly, and I crawl over her until we're breast-to-breast and kiss her lips. I smile and pour some of the whiskey out onto her neck—just a little. I watch it as I pour it on her chest, as the amber liquid runs down her breasts. It makes her golden skin shine, and Grace laughs. I take that as a go-ahead, and make my move, kissing her neck and tasting the whiskey, kissing and suckling down her body. I trace her areolae with my tongue and then open wide and put as much skin in my mouth as I can. “Mmmm.” The sweat taste sending spasms through my body. So I keep kissing, lapping up some booze that collected in her belly button and in the creases of her abdominals. Man, I wish I had abs like that. I trace the tattoo around her navel with my tongue and keep moving.

Grace moans as I go lower, and find the button of her pants fastened.

“You ready now?” she asks. “Time for the main attraction.”

I giggle in spite of myself and pull the button down. Grace leans back and I pull the pants off her legs, and the socks with them. Her panties are small for a woman as huge as Grace and soaking wet from anticipation

Grace pushes me to the bed and we kiss furiously, and I feel her hand run down my body and into my underwear; her fingers graze my clitoris and enter me and I cry out, and my mind clouds with pleasure. We touch and kiss and I lose all coherent thought. It's fantastic to be loved this way, I think.

“Yeah it is,” Grace replies, and I realize I must have said it out loud. I cry out again, and Grace's mouth finds mine.

And then it stops, the motion ceases and I open my tightly shut eyes and see Grace, her arms around me, looking over my shoulder towards the door to our room. We're both on our knees. I throw a glance back that way and see grey clothes and golden skin and black hair.

“Cassandra!” Grace shouts. “What the hell are you doing?”

The once and future Batgirl stares dumbly at us, then bows her head and closes her eyes. “I am sorry,” she says. “I heard a scream. I came to make sure nobody was dying.”

“Does it look like someone's dying?!” Grace spat. Cassandra shook her head.

As quickly as she appeared, Cassandra vanishes.

“So many scars,” I think to myself, holding Grace to me tighter, her warm body against mine.

Grace taps me on the shoulder. “You're not that different, Anissa. Your scars are fresher, and on the inside. But yours will vanish as soon as you let them. Cass's will be there forever.”

And for the first time, I have a bit of clarity. We go down on the bed and grace pulls my panties off all the way, finally, and her mouth finds my sweet spot and sends me into euphoria. But I talk to her anyway.

“I don't have scars,” I tell her. “Just bruises. I've let Batman get to me and made a mountain out of a pebble. Sometimes you just need someone to help break it down to size. And...”

Her tongue slides inside me and my body spasms. I lose my train of thought again and shriek in pleasure, falling back and letting Grace work.

“What was that?” she asks, her breath warm against my body, making it all the harder to think.

“Nothing,” I answer through twinges of pleasure. “Just don't stop Grace. Don't ever stop.”

**Author's Note:**

> In retrospect I regret saying Black Lightning was homophobic...


End file.
